


Ex Undis

by orphan_account



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Canon Divergent, Damn Yrel you zealot, Multi, Spoilers, The Lich King continues to shape the world, The Naaru Can't be Trusted, various points in time, various relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-08-26 08:10:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16677841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The War between the Horde and the Alliance is taking heated turns, these are just the look in view of those in the front lines. Survivors of previous wars serving as cautionary tales, while the young soldiering on are forced to ask themselves if this is worth fighting for. The world is dying, but where does that fit in the greater scheme of things according to some, hm?





	1. Same Ole', Same Ole'

**Author's Note:**

> Tales of old and new, these are the days and looks in view of various figures in Azeroth's history. Young and old, known and relatively obscure. May be taken as a series of one shots, or not. I'll add characters and tags as I need. I don't have any set relationships, but if you want to see something specific feel free to request it!

The salty winds of the South Seas felt like home to Jaina Proudmoore. Deathwing’s Cataclysm might’ve move Kul’Tiras from it’s original geographical location, but those born at sea always knew the guiding path home. However, for those like Jaina, whom spent years in the Mainland of Eastern Kingdoms and then traveling across the different shores of Azeroth, this would prove to be a crash course on re-learning the new navigation paths home. Thankfully, she had guidance from the newly reformed Tidesages, led by Brother Pike to help her harness the power of the Lord Admiral’s pendant.

According to legend, the Anchor wasn’t just meant to recall the Fleet, but to also help summon sailors from grasp of the sea witches. The Spectres were used to help protect the fleet in times of need. A weapon, Jaina suspected, would be used in the times to come. 

“Lord Admiral,” – Bellowed a sailor from topside, - “The Wind’s Redemption has been sighted and she looks grim!” 

Stormwind’s finest sailors (something most Kul’Tirans found laughable, considering the original Sailors of Stormwinds were trained by them) were on that vessel. She knew High King Wrynn had sent them not only to escort her, but to assist in tracking down Zandalari movement. Jaina threw herself off her seat, nearly knocking aside her newly traced maps and heading topside. About a few knots away, she could see ‘The Wind’s Redemption’ approaching steadfast, smoke billowing from it’s sails.

“Tandred!” – Jaina called for her brother and Captain of her fleet, - “I’m opening portals unto the ship. Send help to retrieve the injured unto our ship. Taelia! See if Grand Admiral Jes-Tereth can sail the ship safely into harbor. If the damage is too much, evacuate the entire ship and I’ll guide it to Boralus from here.” 

Her hands moved in the all familiar motion to create several portals. Tandred’s booming calls for all hands on deck. All non-essential sailors were headed to the portals, one organizing itself as the incoming portal –men stationed with supplies to aid the wounded. The other would be the outgoing, with various men heading through. Jaina turned her head to find Taelia summoning Galeheart and flying off, opting for a fast approach.

She hoped to the light that the Wind’s Redemption hadn’t brought in a nasty surprise in the form of Zandalari Ships following their tail. Her worries subsided when the wounded began entering the ship and Galeheart swept above, Taelia bringing in Shandris Feathermoon right in. Without hesitation, the Night Elf jumped off, shouting her thanks in Taelia’s direction as she flew off. Landing gracefully, Shandris turned her attention to Jaina and offered a bemused look in her direction. “Never a dull moment around you, _Lord Admiral_ ” 

She winked in Jaina’s direction and Jaina gave a soft laugh, grateful for the Sentinel Commander for her friendship. Shandris had been through so much over the millennia, her wisdom was valued in the Alliance. Most of all, Jaina valued her friendship after Theramore. – “For once, I am of use on a ship. Who all is on board?” 

“Wyrmbane, but he should be coming through a portal soon enough. He took a terrible hit from the ballista blast. Spymaster Shaw was thankfully not on board with us and Alleria Windrunner had been recalled to Stormwind by High King Wrynn. Jes-Tereth should be capable of sailing to harbor.” 

“If the damage didn’t hit the hull of the ship,” Tandred descended from his place at the wheel. - “Can anyone assess any damage to the hull of the ship?” 

“Not out at sea, we cannot.” – Shandris warned, her body tense – “That attack wasn’t from the Horde. It was from Azshara’s Naga, they’ve been active in the area.” 

_The naga,_ thought Jaina to herself, watching as the Alliance sailors began to integrate with the Kul’Tiran ones. _They have been a problem for us in Stormsong Valley. Brother Pike and his tidesages may want to know about this so that the Storm’s Wake may begin to plan a counter assault to keep Azshara’s fiends off our shores. At least with the Horde, you kill Sylvanas and you’re able to negotiate with leaders like Baine, or even Saurfang. With the Naga, there is no telling what nefarious plans Azshara might have._

“Taelia’s flying back, I don’t see Jes-Tereth with her.” Tandred called out, pulling Jaina from her thoughts.

“Then continue to steer us towards Boralus, Captain. Shandris, care to parley with me below deck? I would like to hear about what happened so that I can begin warning my sailors.” 

Her brother nodded, shouting off orders across to the rest of the ship. Jaina waited until Taelia landed, dismounting Galeheart with ease. –“The Grand Admiral sends her regards, Lord Admiral, and says that ‘The Naga scum might’ve hurt my vessel, but she can ease into shore so the longmen can repair her.’ I did advise that once I delivered the message, I’d rejoin her on ship should anything happen. The Alliance cannot risk to lose her.” 

“Thank you, Lady Fordragon.” – Jaina said, emphasizing on the name for Shandris’ listening pleasure. The Sentinel General turned her focus unto Taelia, stunned. Everyone had known Bolvar, but few recalled the former Paladin having a family. Shandris would also go on to feel a pang of pain in her heart, realizing at once that Taelia hadn’t met either Lady or Lord Fordragon and missed on having amazing people in her life. A kindred spirit of sorts, except Shandris had _met_ her parents and in turn, she wasn’t fostered on a neighboring Kingdom. She had been formally adopted by Tyrande and Shan’do Stormrage, shown love and nurtured into the woman she is now, ten thousand years later.

“Lady Taelia Fordragon, I’d like to meet a dear friend of mine.” – Jaina continued, moving in between Taelia and Shandris. – “ This is General Shandris Feathermoon, of the Kaldore’i Sentinels.”

Excitedly, Taelia grinned – “ I’ve heard stories about her. Cyrus spoke of the old legends, of the War of the Ancients…and so many others. But I would love to hear the accounts of people who actually lived through Azeroth at the time.” 

“I’m sure you have stories of your own, Taelia.” – Shandris said gently, noting the discomfort Taelia had in regards of her official title. It was akin to looking in the mirror; considering Shandris’ first reservations regarding her official title. – “If you like stories, we could perhaps get together with a few others who have.”

In that precise moment, Shandris offered a warm smile wondering if perhaps she ought to invite a tortollan or two to eavesdrop on the story telling. Perhaps they would know a thing or two to share with young Taelia. 

"Perhaps when this is all set and done,"- Jaina interjected, her hand grazing Shandris' upper arm - "We could all go to Stormwind. I recall High King Wrynn extended Taelia an invitation, considering he has his own stories to share, then maybe we could _all_ share. I believe Seeker Roko would love an opportunity to indulge in a visit to Eastern Kingdoms."

The smile spreading across Taelia's face made it worth it. Shandris remembered when the likes of Tyrande, Maiev and other Kaldore'i had done the same for her. Feeling Tandred Proudmoore's gaze, Shandris swung her body in the direction which the young Captain had gone off to. The time for stories would be later, but there was still a war to be fought. 

"Just how many more wars must we fight..."


	2. Comparison Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this house we fix Blizzard's bullshit with characters, ffs.

Many of the Horde races often spoke of the fresh air in Zuldazar and it's soothing qualities in comparison to the dusty Vol'dun air or Nazmir's humid swamps. For the Forsaken, there was no ability to experience the air as they technically did not draw breath, but rather their chests expanded and contracted on muscle memory. Even with his upgraded body, Nathanos found himself unable to experience that which the likes of the Tauren and Trolls took for granted. When he lived, Nathanos had always found himself running through Lordaeron, his hounds in tow as the wind swept his hair back and he _breathed_ in. Now all he could smell was rotten flesh, decaying organs and _blood_.

Once upon a time, all he used to smell was forests and streams, animals and _**her**_.

Pushing the memory aside, he took in a sharp breath - a pain filled one as all he attempted to get some enjoyment out of the beautiful day. Instead, it was denied to him and now he lingered back, a scowl over his face.

"Stop torturing yourself," - A guttural voice called to him, forcing Nathanos to turn his head to where it came from. In life, Lillian Voss hadn't been a friend to the man now known as Blightcaller - but these days, she was a figurative breath of fresh air. Someone who understood the very reasons that he followed Sylvanas and served with little to no question. - "The only thing you'll get out of this is for a lung to fall off."

"Talking from experience, Voss?" 

Raising a small tuft of what had been an eyebrow once, Lillian tried to keep a serious face. Instead, she managed a half-laugh and proceeded to readjust her mouth back in place. At first, she'd been against the idea of being a Forsaken, and it'd taken years and plenty of violence to accept her newfound place in the world. Dying violently and being forced back to life changes you, as both Lillian and Nathanos learned from their respective experiences. They no longer could feel as they had in life, but as with everything, a feint memory always seemed to guide them through their unlives. 

"Plenty of it. But I suppose you don't suffer of falling organs ever since Sylvanas procured you a new body."

Ah yes, the not so secret bit about a new body. Nathanos still did not know how to feel about his current situation. Whilst he understood the Banshee Queen needed him at her side in the battle against Gul'dan and the damned Burning Legion, the murder of his very cousin had been... tragic to say the least. Stephon was the last surviving Marris and he left no heirs, meaning that the minute he'd been murdered to use his body to restructure Nathanos, the Marris line died with him. But if anyone understood such a tragedy, it'd been Lillian.

_Except she killed her father._

"Except if I'm not careful, this body will end up filled with holes courtesy of those damned vultures in Vol'dun, thinking I'm their next meal."

"Oh, but the plight of being a forsaken." She retorted, the two of them trying their hardest not to laugh. - " When it not leaving body parts behind, it's the light forsaken birds trying to make us into a meal. I don't understand how Hunters can still tame the bloody things."

"They're useful, plus, you don't see a lot of our hunters with carrion birds for pets. We tend to avoid them if possible."

"I did notice a tendency. I'd just never thought much of it." Lillian supplied, leaning against a pillar. - "But you're not here for a breath of fresh air, are you? _She_ has orders, doesn't she?"

Nathanos' expression returned to it's usual soured one as he didn't quite like Lillian's particular tone regarding The Dark Lady. Sylvanas be as it may, a questionable Warchief, but if anyone understood _why_ she did this, it was him. Or at least that is what Nathanos told himself when following her orders. 

The bitterness that resided within the original Forsaken had been justified. They hadn't had a choice in being brutally murdered and forcefully raised into undeath, only to be hunted down by the same people they _died for_. Their revenge against Stormwind was wholly justified, at least in his and Lillian's eyes, even in Sylvanas. Though Nathanos knew Sylvanas' rage towards the human kingdoms went beyond what was done to the Forsaken. It was for their inaction at halting Arthas Menethil, for the destruction of Quel'thalas, the Sunwell _and_ failing the Sindore'i, considering Sylvanas had **died** for them.

It was rage at the Kaldore'i for exiling them to begin with.

Teldrassil had been the culmination of years spent angry at the failings of so many leaders. It was more than an act of revenge, or even about sussing out the Worgen.

"No new orders. We're to press as planned."

"As much as I agree that Stormwind and the Alliance needs to be made to feel an iota of what **we** felt,"- Lillian began, folding her decaying arms over her barely existing chest - "I also do believe we could have accomplished the goal without burning the Night Elves' lands."

"Could we, Lillian?"- Nathanos posed the question, intensely glancing in her direction. - "The Night Elves shunned Quel'Thalas in their hour of need, but had no issue in taking in the Worgen when Silverpine was blighted. How is it they were able to help one former member of the Alliance, but not another when it was needed? The Kaldore'i are _too proud_ and needed to be reminded of the pain of loss. Ask the Sindore'i and the Shal'dorei and they'll gladly tell you of the fact that the Kaldore'i have done nothing but be aggressive towards their existence over the whole War of the Ancients. To this day, there are still hostilities between them all! Look at the so called "Ren'dorei" that Alleria leads. Explain to me, in what universe the Alliance would have taken in the Void **and** the Lightforged as Allies? The Ren'dorei were a threat to everything Sylvanas died to protect, and of course Lor'themar banished them from Quel'thalas!"

Nathanos, by his training as the first human Ranger Lord, had been privvy to the Elven Politics for far too long. Thus, he continued on his point. "Yet, the Boy-King took in the very enemy we're trying to avoid and partnered with them. Varian Wrynn would have never allowed the Void to enter Stormwind. I'm stunned the Old Mutt didn't put his foot down, took his belt to the boy's bottom and told him a resolute no to the idea."

The idea brought forth laughter from the former Crusader, as she slid down to sit on a supply crate. Blightcaller had several points she would acquise to, as she wasn't fully aware of the history between the Elven Cultures and the other races. 

"And now, we must rectify that, I suppose."

"Precisely. I believe in the Dark Lady. I believe in the Horde's survival. We're doing this to ensure not just the Forsaken's survival in Azeroth, but to save us from the foolish mistakes the Alliance has committed. Anduin Wrynn is as misguided as another would have been King, one we knew too well..."


	3. I still believe that she will come to me (Pt 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything with Liadrin and Lor'themar will be likely riddled with angst and plenty of polyamorous undertones, so keep an eye for these two characters. :D

Rumors that Lady Liadrin would be arriving in Silvermoon City had spread fast amongst the common folk, nobles and various merchants. Her various missions in service of the Horde had been stories shared far and wide, but to actually see her in person was a sight in itself. The Blood Knight Matriarch had been one of the driving forces in restoring the Sunwell to Silvermoon and many regaled her with their thanks. Thus, when word came, many prepared for a hero's welcome, as it'd been a very long time since Liadrin had last set foot in Silvermoon.

When word spread, it'd been Halduron Brightwing who alerted Lor'themar of Liadrin's arrival to Silvermoon. “Regent Lord, the Farstriders have word from the Outrunners that the Blood Knight banners have been seen flying on Eversong Woods. No sight of the Matriarch, but I have advised the Flight Master to be on the look out for anyone flying in.”

Lor'themar's hands had been resting on the throne, one he felt to this day, was not his own to sit. Kael'Thas should have been the next Sunstrider king, but fate had other plans for the now fallen Prince. The vacancy left by the Prince was still felt amongst them all, and that had been the primary reason why Lor'themar ruled with a Triumvirate formed of himself, Halduron and Rommath. 

Over the years, their people had come to refer to he as their King. He often dissuaded them, should anyone had a claim to the Sun Crown it would have been the Windrunners. The family had been Noble from birth, and the Sisters each had a stake in Quel'thalas’ crown and protection. Technically speaking, should either of the three challenge him for the crown, Lor'themar knew he was three shades of fucked. However, Sylvanas would never lay claim to it out of respect for Anasterian.

Alleria, much like he, had never been politically inclined. And as a result of her Void corruption, she was unfit to lead Silvermoon. This left Vereesa, whom would likely get murdered for even attempting a go at him on the principle that the Sindore'i viewed her a traitor due to her staunch loyalty to the Alliance.

Some days, Lor'themar longed for the forests and a freedom he hadn't had since their people's ventures to Outland. Of one thing he had been certain, if he were ever a King, then Liadrin would have been the only person he'd want for a Queen at his side. 

“Halduron has been speaking and you're mooning over whether Liadrin will like your new facial hair!”

Oh, but of course Rommath's annoyed tone had to break his thoughts. Absently running a hand over his goatee, Lor'themar glared in the Magister's direction. “I do not 'moon’ as you so kindly put it, Rommath. I was contemplating on the reason for Liadrin's visit to Silvermoon.”

“You could ask her yourself, when she arrives. She sent her people ahead, word from one of the Sunsworn is that one of our Magisters in Orgimmar is porting her in shortly. The rest had been on their way here since the Warchief caught wind of the Alliance's plans to come our way.”

“Thank you for the Intel, Rommath. Be who she may have become, but Sylvanas will always have a heart for Quel'thalas. I take she's mobilizing her own Forsaken in the Ghostlands to assist us. Halduron, send your outrunners to Eversong and Quel’danas. Begin reinforcing our ports and the Dead Scar.”

“Regent Lord, Hercular will be arriving from Tarren Mill alongside Gunter Arcanus to begin rallying the Ghostlands’ Forsaken forces.” 

“Satisfying to hear, Halduron. Ensure all our angles are covered.”

As others moved, Lor'themar could not help but to loathe himself for his inability to join their preparations. If only Sylvanas had survived Arthas, he would be in Halduron's place… except, could Quel'thalas handle an internal war between the Windrunners over the throne? He doubted it, taking strides across to where he knew Liadrin would most likely port in.

*˜*˜*

Porting straight into the palace had been the safest option according to the magisters. Liadrin had only wanted to return home and rest before her next adventure, but now with the threat of the Alliance moving towards them as a result of the Horde's latest actions was imminent. Liadrin felt the weight of telling the Regent Lord of her findings. 

If what she'd heard about the Draenor Orcs that had been recruited by the Champion, then they lost a valuable neutral ally in the Alternate Timeline. She somehow could not believe that Exarch Yrel had become a zealot of the light, after everything they'd done together. The piety that the Draenei of their world exhibited had pushed into the fanatical and now, the result was a mad woman in place of an ally. Liadrin's heart broke, her strides shortening as she tried her best to keep her composure.

She needed to keep herself together, especially with an invasion at the door once again. Between the feeling of betrayal, Liadrin was experiencing a general annoyance at the idea of Silvermoon suffering another attack. She grew tired of the Alliance's constant toying with their nation…

"Liadrin," Lor'themar's voice called her out of her thoughts and soon she found herself turning her gaze towards the Regent Lord. Sometimes, she caught herself confused between saluting him or not. Considering the way he swept her into his arms, gleeful and lighthearted - Liadrin knew at once that this was not the time for formalities.

"Lor'themar."

"I'm glad you've returned to Silvermoon."- The longing could be felt in his voice and Liadrin found herself giving Lor'themar a once over. Plenty had indeed changed while she's been away from the home of the Sindore'i. Pushing her thoughts on Yrel to the side, Liadrin tilted her head in Lor'themar's direction:

"May I ask, what is the matter with your hair?"

"...Nothing is wrong with it. I just got tired of people wanting to touch my hair...this excludes you, of course!" 

With a belly aching laugh, Liadrin wiped tears from her eyes. If only for a little while, she could push away the war. Never would they admit their feelings, this much had been a silent agreement that either hoped could continue. But someday, when a moment could be perhaps stolen, they would address it once and for all. For now, all Liadrin could do was reach up and brush away some stray hairs from Lor'themar's eyes.

"We have a battle to plan."


	4. Interluding Thoughts

Vengeance is a weapon.

Maiev Shadowsong lived with a heart full of vengeance for millennia. She'd been reviled and abhorred by her own people. Even her Wardens had questioned her methods! But as of the events that led to Sira Moonwarden's death at the hands of that bastard Nathanos Blightcaller, the Wardens all rose to the occasion - embracing wrath and vengeance as a weapon. The few Illidari that remained by their side had cocked their respective eyebrows, not making mention of the Warden's newfound rage. That had been until Kor'vas Bloodthorn, one of Illidan's youngest lieutenants, had turned her head in Maiev's direction.

"Tell me something, Maiev." - She began, dropping her newly polished glaive unto a weapon rack. The Kaldore'i had spread throughout various places. The civilians that had survived moved into Stormwind, The Wardens continued to rebuild the Vault and their isle off the coast of Aszuna had been a hub for those who could access it. Druids went on to Moonglade and the Dream, whilst others spread throughout the various settlements that they had formed throughout Azeroth. All except the Illidari, whom still had possession of their ship and access to the Vault.

"Why is it that you, driven by Vengeance, has sat aside and allowed for Tyrande Whisperwind to parade herself as Elune's wrath. If it weren't for the love Lord Illidan had for her, I'd dare say that imitation is the most sincerest form of flattery."

Maiev dropped her helmet to one side, turning to face the young Illidari. Was that condescending undertone meant to be the way it was?

"Why is it, Maiev, that you're taking orders from a woman who was too busy saving Shand'o Stormrage - _again_ \- instead of saving the innocents who weren't warriors. She is a self absorbed coward."

"She has also led our people in trying times." - Maiev spat out in return, unable to believe the nerve of the woman Illidan left in charge of his troops. But then again, she could almost picture the Demon Hunter's contempt at this entire situation. Would he have done differently from Tyrande and Malfurion? Could any of them have? Would Sira and Delaryn still live, if it'd been Illidan and herself leading their people? She would never get that answer, but the only thing she could do was shake her head at Kor'vas. - "Tyrande led the Kaldore'i fearlessly for millennia. While the druids slumbered in the dream, she and the Sentinels built the very nation that the Darnassian Corpse burnt to a cinder. I should have killed every single last one of them..."

"Tyrande and Malfurion stopped you." - Kor'vas spat out, her fel infused tattoo's lighting in the dark of the Vault. - "Everything the Wardens and the Illidari have done, has been _for Azeroth!_ Now Azeroth bleeds thanks to Sargeras' sword sticking out of Silithus like a bad reminder of _everything_ our people have endured. You lived through the War of the Shifting sands, Maiev. You of all people know that Silithus was the home of C'thun. And now Azeroth bleeds, we don't know if the Azerite can do anything to Ahn'Qiraj and no one's thought of it..."

Maiev's eyes narrowed into slits and she was furious at not having seen the point Kor'vas made, sooner. 

"It's this that makes me miss Archmage Khadgar," - Kor'vas added with a sly sneer. - "He would've unified you all where it mattered. Speaker Magni is still viewed by the Horde as a member of the Alliance."

"....Wait," - Maiev began, sudden realization hitting her. - "I'd forgotten that you all have Darnassians among you"

"That is correct. We long learned to put the past behind us, we may be conscribed into service for our respective factions, but the Illidari remain much like the Kirin Tor - neutral in many aspects. Partially the reason Lord Illidan left **Allari and I** in charge instead of Kayn or Altruis. Those two would destroy Mardum if allowed to lead together."

The gears in Maiev's head begun to turn she needed to speak with Tyrande soon.


End file.
